Legacy What is a Legacy
by GlutenFreeWaffles
Summary: Now living in London, Morgan Stark receives a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She wants to explore this new world, a world where her name doesn't provoke a conversation about her late father's company or sacrifice. She wants to succeed on her own merit not just because of her last name. (Rating is for any language or possibly considered dark themes)
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Pepper decided to move to England to escape the insanity of New York press. ****Now living in London, Morgan Stark receives a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She wants to explore this new world, a world where her name doesn't provoke a conversation about her late father's company or sacrifice. She wants to succeed on her own merit not just because of her last name. **

**A/N: I've basically ignored the technical years that everything happened in. Morgan is in the same year as Fred and George in this story. I hope you enjoy this story, I enjoy writing it. Granted, I'm fairly easily entertained.**

**Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter or the Avengers. I own this laptop and a box of rice... and that's pretty much it. **

**Chapter One**

Morgan Stark waited outside of the school building, holding her books as tightly to her chest as she could. The rain was coming down in sheets and Morgan didn't have an umbrella. School had been terrible, Happy was late to pick her up, and all she wanted was to curl up in bed under a warm blanket.

The rain was so cold and cut like a knife straight through the threads of Morgan's sweater. She knew that she would most likely catch a chill after standing out here for so long. And she knew that she was completely able to stand with the rest of the children up by the doors of the school building. Up there, by the doors, an outcropping ledge protected the children from the pouring London rain. But, Morgan would rather stand here in the rain than go stand by those monsters for another second.

Just when Morgan was beginning to think to call Happy and see where he was, the familiar black town car pulled up to the curb. Sighing with relief, Morgan practically ran towards the car. As she approached the car, Happy jumped out and met her halfway, his umbrella in hand and outstretched to cover Morgan's head.

"Hey Morgan," Happy greeted her. "Why are you soaking wet?"

"It's raining," Morgan said, briefly. She slid into the backseat as Happy opened the door for her. She didn't feel like talking about her day. Happy seemed to sense this from her curt response. Instead of prodding and poking for more information, he grabbed a warm, dry blanket out of the trunk of the car, passed it to Morgan, and began driving.

After wrapping herself in the blanket, Morgan leaned against the window of the car and watched as the buildings blurred together and the people flashed by faster than Morgan could identify any distinguishing features. It was easy to get swept up just watching the shapes and colors pass her by. It was easy to forget about her bad day and ignore the world.

Morgan was so swept up in watching the street pass by that she didn't pay attention to where Happy was driving her. She had assumed that they were just going back to the apartment, as they usually did. However, when the car stopped moving and as she looked out her window, things seemed to come into focus. Morgan realized that Happy had driven to a McDonalds. She felt her eyes moisten slightly with the beginnings of tears.

Years ago, at her dad's funeral Happy had promised her that he would get her all the cheeseburgers she wanted. Cheeseburgers had been one of her dad's favorite foods. And now, whenever Morgan got upset or when she missed her dad, Happy would bring her to the closest burger joint.

"How many do you want?" Happy asked, breaking the long silence.

"Just one, but can I get fries and a milkshake too?" Morgan asked, realizing that along with being upset, she also was famished.

"Of course," Happy replied. As the voice crackled through the drive through loudspeaker. Happy ordered Morgan's cheeseburger, fries, and shake along with a cheeseburger for himself. He pulled up to the window, paid and collected their order. As Happy passed Morgan her McDonald's bag and shake, he asked, "Do you feel like talking about it yet?"

"Happy, there really isn't anything to talk about," Morgan sighed. "Middle schoolers suck. And all the one's here are douchebags."

"Hey, young miss, I don't like that language," Happy reprimanded.

"Sorry, but it's true," Morgan argued. "And I know Mom's right when she says they're just intimidated by an eleven year-old being in 8th grade with them. But, I still can't help but think that these kids are more than the usual variety of idiotic douchebags. I… I just don't want to be in London anymore."

"You know what, Morgan? It sounds like there's a lot more than a couple douchebag kids bothering you," Happy observed. "You should talk to your mom about it. She said that this year in London was only if you're okay with it. She can always commute using the jet if it's easier."

"No," Morgan sighed. Her mom was always so stressed out about work, and her having to commute from New York to London would be more stressful than it already was. She didn't want to make things more difficult because she didn't like a few kids at school.

"Okay," Happy resigned. "What if I told your mom?"

Morgan glared at him, through the rearview mirror and replied, "If you told mom. I would lose all my trust in you and never tell you another thing about my life." She paused. "But, I mean, eventually I would realize that we've been through a lot together and come around to forgiving you and resume telling you all my dirty secrets. But, the process of that turnover would take years. I'm sure you would much rather avoid that tantrum by just letting me tell her when I'm ready to tell her."

By the wrinkles at the corners of Happy's eyes, Morgan could tell that the man was smiling. She sighed. Happy would never tell her mom if she didn't want him to. He was cool like that. Even when Morgan had punched the girl who had been bullying her, Happy just asked if the girl had deserved to be punched and if Morgan wanted any ice for her hand.

The pair fell back into silence as they made their way back towards the apartment. Morgan dipped some of the french fries into her shake and allowed herself to zone out again. They made it to the apartment fairly quickly, there wasn't much traffic at 2:30 on a Wednesday in August. As they pulled up to the apartment, Morgan slid to the door closest to the sidewalk. She opened the door before Happy had a chance to do it for her. But she did accept his hand in helping her out of the car.

"Hey, Happy," Morgan mumbled, "thanks for the cheeseburgers."

"Morgan," Happy replied, as he walked back to the car. "I'll get you all the cheeseburgers you want."

Morgan smiled, then ran up the steps and unlocked the door to the apartment. Since they were pretty self-sufficient, her mom and her had decided that the only house staff they wanted with them in London was Happy. So, until her mom got home, Morgan would be the only one in the apartment.

"Hey, Jarvis," Morgan called. "Play some AC/DC."

"Of course, Miss. Stark," the AI replied before the sound of _Highway to Hell_ sounded from the apartment sound system drowned out all other noises.

* * *

"Morgan!" Pepper called as she walked into the apartment. "There's a letter for you! And I brought home some take-out for dinner. I didn't feel like cooking tonight."

Morgan made her way out of her room, glad to leave behind the tedious task of writing a book report on _To Kill a Mockingbird_. Although the essay was easy enough, considering the fairly obvious morals and motifs of the novel, Morgan found the process of explaining all of this to be incredibly boring. She would much rather be working on something that actually challenged her.

"Who' the letter from?" Morgan asked, confused. "I don't get letters from anyone. More importantly, who still uses the mail these days? Email is so much more efficient."

"I don't know who the letter is from, honey," Pepper replied. "It's over on the counter."

Pepper began to divide the fried rice into the two bowls. After a few moments of silence, she glanced over at Morgan. Morgan was staring, her mouth slightly agape, at the letter she had opened. It was a thick, yellowish parchment which Pepper found odd. But, this was London, there was a lot here that Pepper thought was strange.

"What does it say?" she asked Morgan.

"Apparently, I'm a wizard," Morgan replied.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Avengers. I just like to pretend like I do.**

**Chapter Two**

"What?" Pepper asked, raising an eyebrow at Morgan. "You're kidding, right?"

"Dear Miss. Stark," Morgan read. "We are pleased to inform you that you have a place here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Members of our staff will be visiting your residence shortly to explain the meaning of this letter. If you choose to accept your place at Hogwarts, these staff members will also aid you in collecting your books and equipment"

Morgan read the words to herself again, processing their meaning. She understood the sentiment, but she wasn't positive she understood what it meant. She knew wizards. She had had dinner with Doctor Strange. She knew people with indescribable powers like Captain Marvel and Scarlet Witch, buy never had she considered that she might be a part of their magical sphere.

No, Morgan had always believed that her superpower was her intelligence. Even then, kids at school were always reminding her that at her age, her father was practically going to MIT.

Morgan was distracted from her thoughts by a sharp knock at the door of the apartment. She made eye contact with her mom and it was clear that the pair of them were having the same thought. When the letter indicated that someone would be visiting them shortly, was this how shortly it had in mind? Could it be possible that someone on their doorstep could possibly know that Morgan had just opened the letter at this exact moment? What were the chances that there was a wizard standing on their doorstep?

"I'll get that," Pepper said, slowly walking down the hallway to the door. Morgan followed just three steps behind her mother, curious as to the identity of the person at the door.

Reaching the door, Morgan noted her mother's hesitance as she reached out to turn the knob. The door swung open, and revealed that there was not one figure standing on the door. But, rather, there were two people. More disappointingly, the two people appeared to be perfectly normal. No cloaks, no wands, not even a hint of a spandex suit. It was just a woman with her black hair drawn up into a bun, wearing a casual, flowered dress. The other person was a man, his hair looked as if it could have used a wash. He was wearing slacks and a black button-down shirt.

"Can I help you?" Pepper asked, relief evident in her voice.

Morgan turned and began to walk back towards the kitchen. But, then something struck her as odd. It was still raining sheets outside—your typical London afternoon. But, the two people at the door didn't have a drop of water on them. They both had looked dry. And, Morgan thought, she didn't remember seeing an umbrella in either of their hands. She turned back towards the door.

"Yes, Ms. Potts," the woman said, addressing Pepper. But, the man's eyes met Morgan's and he smiled knowingly. "My name is Professor McGonagall and this is my colleague Professor Snape. We're fro—"

"You're from Hogwarts," Morgan interrupted. Pepper turned to look at Morgan, surprise marked on her face by slightly parted lips and lifted brow.

"Well, yes, actually," Professor McGonagall confirmed. "We're teachers at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

* * *

"So, you're wizards?" Morgan asked, for what felt like the millionth time. Pepper shot her a glance that very clearly said 'let them at least take a sip of their tea before asking any questions'. The man, Professor Snape, looked to Professor McGonagall, who was gently blowing on the steaming cup of tea that Pepper had just brought out from the kitchen.

"Yes, we are wizards," Professor McGonagall replied. "But, we're not the type of wizards that you have encountered."

"What do you mean?" Morgan asked, she was perched on the very edge of her seat. Leaning as far forward as her body would allow.

"We use wands," Professor McGonagall replied. "I'm aware you have encountered Sorcerers in New York, such as the infamous Doctor Strange. Sorcerers utilize a different variety of magic than we do at Hogwarts. At Hogwarts, you would use a wand and learn spells and charms from books and instructors. There is much more to magic than foolishly contorting your fingers and waving your hands about."

Morgan nodded, trying to absorb absolutely every detail these people would reveal to her. Her mind was formulating questions faster than she could ask them.

"Morgan, I know you must have thousands of questions," Professor McGonagall said (biggest understatement of the millenium, thought Morgan). "But, I would ask you to allow us to try and explain before you ask any of your questions. We might end up answering your questions before you ask them."

"Alright," Morgan conceded, it was the logical path to choose. Although she had thousands upon thousands of questions, she was sure that the answers to those thousands of questions would barely begin to scratch the world these wizards could unveil to her.

"Alright." Professor McGongall began. "Morgan Stark, you are a witch. Or, I suppose, you seem to prefer the term of wizard. But, you know this. Both from our letter, and if you think back to the many moments of your life I'm sure you can produce a memory that is much more easily explained with the understanding that you are a wizard.

"Every witch or wizard in history presented signs of their magical abilities before they ever received their Hogwarts letters. This can be as simple as accidentally changing the color of their birthday cake without touching the frosting or as complicated as turning their older brother into a toad when they annoyed them."

Professor McGonagall continued to explain the magical world to Morgan. Including an in-depth explanation of the Ministry of Magic, which governed the magical community. She gave specifics on how students are taught at Hogwarts and how they develop their abilities. Everything from the laws of the wizarding community to the common career path of wizards was explained to Morgan's satisfaction.

"I suppose I should also explain the reason for our visit. Most of the time, even with Muggleborn students, there is not a visit from a member of the Hogwarts staff. You are receiving this letter as a result of your American citizenship and your family's popularity in the American press," Professor McGongall detailed. "Of course, there has been a great deal of publicity surrounding your family here in England. However, as time passed, that publicity has faded to an occasional article about Stark Industries.

"Such articles and publicity has not haunted the Wizarding news. In fact, many Hogwarts students of your age would fail to recognize you as the daughter of a superhero and CEO. I don't say this to be cruel or to stir your grief. I am telling you this because it is the belief of our headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, that should you seek an education in magic, Hogwarts would be the prime location for you studies."

Morgan thought about this. Professor McGonagall seemed to be allowing her time to do so, as the woman was now taking a long sip of her tea. It would be amazing to learn magic and it would be amazing to be out of reach from the tabloids. It would be amazing to not be the subject of rumors and gossip because of her family. The only downside Morgan could foresee was the time she would spend away from her mother.

"How often would I be able to come home?" Morgan asked.

"We have only a few holiday breaks for school," Professor McGonagall acknowledged. "But, students are always welcome to request a weekend visit to their family, provided they fund their own transportation."

Morgan nodded, she glanced at her mom. Pepper was looking at her, when Morgan made eye contact Pepper offered her a small smile and nod. Morgan understood what her mom was telling her. She was saying that it was okay for Morgan to decide that she wanted to go to Hogwarts. It was okay if Morgan left home. It was okay, so long as it was what Morgan wanted.

"I want to go," Morgan said, looking directly into Professor McGonagall's dark blue eyes. "I want to learn more about magic. I want to become a wizard."

"In that case, and with your mother's permission, Professor Snape will return to aid you in purchasing your needed materials for school," Professor McGonagall said. "I would be the one to accompany you, however, I have a family event that I must attend. This is necessary however, because there have been a number of threats made against Muggleborn students and their parents recently by some radical groups. So, we are requiring that all Muggleborns do their term shopping with a member of Hogwarts staff."

Morgan caught a glance of what looked to be some relative of guilt flitter across Professor Snapes' fact when Professor McGonagall mentioned these threats. This confused Morgan. What did this professor have to feel guilty about? Especially if he was helping to accompany students to their shopping destinations for protection. Overall, it was a very confusing situation. But, one thing that was very clear to Morgan: she was going shopping tomorrow, for magical school supplies.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Avengers. I eat copious amounts of oatmeal, reread Harry Potter, and live vicariously through my friends.**

**Chapter Three**

Morgan waited in the apartment. She was sitting at the kitchen table, playing with the few remaining fruit loops in her bowl. They pieces of cereal had long since become soggy, but the motion was more mindless than practical anyways. This morning she had woken up before her alarm could chime. She had woken up excited and had gotten ready for the day in a record time. She wasn't sure what time Professor Snape would be by to go shopping, but she wanted to be ready to go.

Her mother had intended to go with Morgan, but then a catastrophe at Stark Industries had called the miraculous Pepper Potts running into the office. Morgan understood that there was nothing her mom could do to avoid work emergencies. But, it still would have been nice to have her there for this highly important day.

Morgan stood, deciding that pushing around cereal was not only pointless, but also pathetic. She had no idea when the professor was coming. For all she knew, it would be hours before he would arrive. There probably was plenty of time to spend working on something productive or efficient. As she dumped the warming milk into the sink, it splattered back and fell on Morgan's shirt.

"Bugger," Morgan cursed. She placed the bowl down in the sink and huffed her way off towards her room. She had chosen to wear her lucky shirt for the day. Not that Morgan thought she needed luck for the day. But, more so, to make sure that a good day wouldn't be spoiled by a freak tornado or falling space junk.

Walking to her closet, Morgan flipped through the different shirts in there. Nothing was what she was looking for. Morgan wasn't usually a person that cared what she was wearing. She had a school uniform on most days and when she got home, she threw on the closest clean article of clothing. But, today, Morgan wanted to be perfect. And what she was wearing somehow seemed to factor into the perfection of the day.

Reaching the wall of the closet, Morgan realized she had gone through all of her shirts. She needed to just choose something and go with it. Closing her eyes and reaching blindly into the closet, Morgan pulled a shirt out. Glancing at her selection, Morgan saw that she had pulled out a shirt from last year's aerospace night at school. It was one of Morgan's favorite shirts because the words on the shirt were designed so that they glowed in the dark. She usually wore it as pajamas, but Morgan decided since she had won this shirt by designing a remote-controlled, cloaking-enabled drone for a demonstration at aerospace night, it had to have some kind of luck.

Morgan went back to the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker. If she was going to get anything done, coffee was the first step. It was the only thing that was a surefire way to get any new ideas. The coffee maker sputtered into life; there was the familiar growling noise of the water beginning to boil. Morgan opened the top of the coffee maker and placed a filter into the machine. She, then, poured in coffee grinds and shut the lid of the coffee maker.

At that moment, there was a crisp knock on the door. Morgan walked to the door and threw it open. Seeing it was Professor Snape, Morgan turned to walk back to the kitchen and yelled back to the professor.

"I'm making coffee. Would you like a cup?"

"No thank you," Professor Snape drawled, Morgan heard him step into the hallway. "I prefer tea."

"We have tea, too!" Morgan called. "But, I didn't boil any water, I'm just using the coffee maker. Feel free to make yourself comfortable."

"Ms. Stark," Professor Snape began. "I'm not here for idle chit chat or comfort, I'm here to bring you and your mother to Diagon Alley so that you can collect your school supplies. That is all."

"Are you always like this?" Morgan asked. "This dry, cold, and a little overrated attitude, I mean. Not to be disrespectful or anything, but it's just not very friendly."

Reaching the kitchen once more, Morgan went through the cabinet to find a mug. She also grabbed out a spoon to scoop out sugar for her coffee and stir it.

"Ms. Stark, are you and your mother ready to go to Diagon Alley?" Professor Snape asked, completely ignoring Morgan's comment. "I am not—as I have stated—here on a social call."

"Right," Morgan replied. "About that, my mom won't be coming. She had a last minute meeting with someone from Parliament."

"I beg your pardon?" Snape sounded disbelieving. It was clear that he hoped he had misheard Morgan's comment.

"Yeah, my mom won't be coming with us. She's busy, you know, running a billion dollar company," Morgan intoned, taking a drink from her coffee mug. "You sure you don't want anything to drink?"

Snape looked like he might have an aneurysm; his mouth was opening and shutting like he was about to say something, but nothing came out except deep, shuddering breaths. Then, an idea seemed to solidify in his mind and he shut his mouth. Producing his wand, Snape quietly muttered an incantation and silver mist burst from the end of his wand. The silver mist appeared to take the form of some kind of animal, but Morgan found it impossible to determine what that animal was before it vanished, cantering through the front door.

"I have sent a message to Professor McGonagall informing her of this— of the situation," Snape informed Morgan. The professor, who had been visibly anxious not two seconds previously, seemed to be calming down. It seemed that he believed whatever his message to Professor McGonagall had been, he believed it would prevent him from spending the day with an 11 year old.

Morgan didn't respond to Snape, she just took a seat at one of the stools at the counter and sipped her coffee. Then, she pulled out her phone and sent a quick message to her mother that she might not be going to Diagon Alley today, afterall. She didn't include Professor Snape's apparent disquietude with being alone with children. Although, as Morgan studied the professor it seemed that much of the current situation made him uneasy. He kept tugging at the cuffs of his suit jacket and toying with his tie.

"Do you not like wearing suits?" Morgan asked, curiously. And as she asked, millions of questions began to form in her mind and come spilling out of her mouth. "Do you not normally wear clothing like this? Do wizards wear suits often? Is there a school uniform at Hogwarts? Because if there if, I better not have to wear some stupid pleated skirt.

"Do you have extra long pockets so you can put your wand in your pocket? Has anyone ever broken their wand by sitting on it while it was in their pocket? Can you only do magic with a wand? Or can you do things just by saying an incantation and wiggling your fingers?" Morgan realized she was vocalizing all of her questions, and saw the color drain from Professor Snape's face. So, she forced herself to stop asking questions and took a long drink of coffee.

Luckily for Professor Snape, he was saved from having to answer any of these questions by a misty silver shape stalking through the front door. This shape was quite obviously a cat, with odd markings around the eyes. The cat walked up to Snape and Morgan, leaped up into Morgan's lap and then the voice of Professor McGonagall echoed from the cat.

"Severus, it is your responsibility to help Miss. Stark collect the materials she needs for school. If Ms. Potts has given permission for you and Miss. Stark to go alone, I see no problems in you making the trip today as planned."

Morgan grinned, swallowed the remainder of her coffee, placed the mug in the sink, and grabbed her favorite pair of converse. Snape looked like he had just been told that he contracted an incurable disease; but, Morgan couldn't be more thrilled. She was going to Diagon Alley! Which, while she didn't quite know where or what that was, seemed exciting.

"Very well," Snape said, as if there had been a pregnant pause between the silver shape speaking and him responding to it. "Did your mother leave some form of Muggle currency for you to exchange?"

"Yep," Morgan replied, pointing to an envelope on the counter. "Although, she said I should have you hold onto it while we travel. According to her, I can't be trusted to carry that much money when I can't even get coffee without losing the change."

Snape nodded. It seemed that he had decided that the easiest way to get through the day was to avoid arguing and do things as quickly as possible. He picked up the envelope and placed it into a pocket of his suit while Morgan finished lacing up her hot rod red high tops.

"How are we getting to Diagon Alley?" Morgan asked. "Are we going to take the Tube? There's a station just about a block from here?"

"Professor McGonagall instructed me to use Muggle transportation for your and your mother's comfort. But, since your mother will no longer be travelling with us, I think side-along apparition will be much more effective," Professor Snape said, with a slight curl to his lip.

"Why will it be more effective?" Morgan asked, curiously.

"Apparition is instantaneous," Snape said curtly. He instructed Morgan to hold tightly to his left arm. Morgan obeyed studying every move Snape made with rapt attention. Apparition sounded a lot like teleportation to Morgan and she didn't want to miss a second of it.

Snape seemed to notice Morgan's wide eyes and keen interest. He said, in a much kinder voice than he had been using, "I suggest you close your eyes for this. Apparition is not always a good experience. Much older wizards than you have been violently ill due to apparition."

Deciding that being violently ill didn't sound appealing, Morgan shut her eyes. She felt Professor Snape step forward and turn on the spot. Morgan squeeze tightly on Snape's arm so that she wouldn't accidentally let go. Suddenly, they were plunged into a darkness that wasn't caused by Morgan's closed eyes. There was pressure from every angle. It became difficult to draw breath and Morgan's head started to pound. And then, just when Morgan began to worry that she was going to pass out, she felt her feet hit solid ground.

Opening her eyes, Morgan was greeted by the most amazing sight. She and Professor Snape were standing in front of a huge, ornate, white building. There were trimmings of gold around the windows and busts of gargoyles stood on the top of the building. It was amazing, it reminded Morgan of ancient Roman architecture.

"Morgan Stark, welcome to Diagon Alley," Professor Snape said, and without pausing he began to walk forward towards the incredible building.


End file.
